to wish impossible things
by prettylittlewriter16
Summary: A trio of Bellarke one-shots.
1. hold me closer

**1\. hold me closer**

 **4x03 — How I wish this scene had played out.**

 **Rated K. (ratings vary with each chapter)**

 _Bellamy Blake._

Clarke finishes writing his name next to the number 99.

She can't bring herself to write her own.

After all she's done, after everything she's lost, after the pain she's caused, how can she? How can she decide that her life means more than any of her people?

The logical part of her brain insists that she's needed. That her people need a leader to survive. But then her eyes flicker to the dark-haired boy asleep on the couch, and she knows they'd be okay without her.

But she can't do that to him again. She can't just hand off her burden when the guilt makes it too difficult to bear; not for a second time. She remembers the day he said the words that had cut into her so deeply:

 _Enough! Clarke, you are not in charge here. And that's a good thing, because people die when you're in charge._

He was right. No matter what she did, it felt like she'd never stop making fatal mistakes.

She was glad to have him back at her side, that was for sure. Her heart fills with warmth for him — for the man who risked everything for his sister, who never stopped looking out for his people, who was so forgiving that she was sure she didn't deserve it.

"Clarke."

His husky, freshly-awoken voice halts her train of thought and snaps her back into reality. Her eyes refocus, and she sees him sitting upright on the couch, hair tousled and shirt crinkled.

"Hey." Clarke smiles weakly, her tired eyes shifting back down to the dreaded piece of paper on her desk.

"Have you finished the list?" His voice is gentle, his head slightly tilted and his dark eyes shine with empathy.

Clarke's already small smile falls, too exhausted to put up any sort of façade. She doesn't answer his question, but instead places her elbows on the desk and rests her face in her hands, exhaling slowly. After a minute, she feels his hand gently rub her shoulder.

In that moment, she's so grateful for the small gesture of reassurance and so worn out by the pressure of choosing who lives and who dies that she shoots up out of her chair and buries her face in Bellamy's chest. His arms instantly wrap around Clarke, gripping her tightly without hesitation.

"If I'm on that list, you're on that list."

He says softly, his chin resting on her head.

Clarke closes her eyes and lets the tears run down her cheeks. God, she hates crying.

"I don't know if I can do this again," Her voice trembles, and she bites her lower lip to stop her from breaking down completely. She doesn't bother explaining what "this" she's referring to; he already knows.

He pulls away and grips her shoulders, his head tilting down so his deep brown eyes can meet her pair of big blues. She begs herself not to sob.

"We do what we have to do, Clarke. You can't blame yourself for all the things we've done to survive."

"All I ever do is make things worse, Bell." Her resolve weakens, and her voice becomes dangerously shaky.

"Listen to me. We live in a shitty world, okay? You're doing the best you can with the cards you've been dealt. You can't save everyone, but if anyone is going to come close... it's you, princess."

Clarke closes her eyes and breathes out through her lips, her emotions stabilizing.

"Your name has to be on that list. Write it down, or I will."

He's right. She is trying her best. And now, she'll just have to hope that it's enough.

Bellamy's hands fall to his sides, and her shoulders suddenly feel cold.

"Thank you, Bellamy." She manages a genuine smile of gratitude.

"You can thank me by writing down 'Clarke Griffin' on there." His head tilts down, motioning to the paper resting ominously on her desk.

Clarke leans over, grabs a pen, and quickly scribbles her name before she can talk herself out of it. She steps back from the desk, hastily distancing herself from yet another reminder that her people might have to suffer another earth-shattering loss.

"When's the last time you got some sleep?" Bellamy nudges her, raising his eyebrows.

She lets out a breath. "Too long ago."

"Come on, I'll walk you to your room."

Clarke nods and gives him a small smile.

After a mainly silent walk back to her quarters (where her mind can't stop wandering to that damn list), Clarke stops in her open doorway and turns to face him.

"Thank you, Bell."

"For what?"

"For everything, I guess." For everything you do for me. I don't deserve it... or you.

She averts her eyes, choosing to look at the cot in her living room rather than meet his perpetually intense gaze.

How does she convey exactly how much of a relief it is to have him with her on this unbelievably difficult climb? If Clarke tried explaining that, they'd be standing in her doorway for hours. Hell, it'd take an eternity just to thank him for all the times he's saved her life.

"You know, as much as I enjoy saving your ass all the time, you've saved me, too."

There he goes again, reading her mind.

"You don't owe me any thanks, princess. We look out for each other down here. Especially royalty."

Clarke looks up at him again, his playful tone making her smile. But as reassuring and perfect as his words are, nothing can ever wipe away the lingering guilt that accompanies every decision she's ever had to make.

"Get some sleep, okay?"

She blinks a few times, then processes his words. Her slightly wide eyes convey a thought she's sure Bellamy can understand: I don't want to be alone.

"You can come in," She says softly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She nods. "I don't want to be by myself right now."

"Okay," He answers.

This has happened before; after ALIE. After Mount Weather. After she closed the dropship door.

When the weight becomes too much to bear and nightmares keep her from sleeping, she asks him for help. Back at the dropship (after that fateful day trip where she'd first seen his true self), she'd take the bedroll next to Bellamy's and fall asleep while he was sharpening spears for hunting. After Mount Weather and ALIE, she'd come into his quarters and crash on his couch while he listened to the patrol radios.

Maybe it's because they understand each other and what they've been through, but for some reason each other's presence is often the only thing that seems to appease both of their demons, at least long enough for them to rest.

It doesn't even take Clarke ten minutes to fall asleep on her couch, head rested comfortably on Bellamy's shoulder, who can't resist a small smile, even while half-asleep himself.


	2. rainfall

**2.**

 **Season one Bellarke. Takes place after day trip — Clarke and Finn did not sleep together.**

 **Rated T.**

Bellamy Blake takes orders from no one. Not from the police, not from his former chancellor, and certainly not from the ninety-something teenaged idiots awaiting him back at the camp.

But, this particular girl doesn't exactly take no for an answer, which is why he now found himself traipsing through the forest, rifle in hand, looking for missing drop ship parts. Clarke insisted she needed someone proficient in shooting — even though the Grounders had been oddly silent and hadn't attacked them in days — and, truth be told, Bellamy didn't trust any of the others to not freak out in a life-or-death situation and cost the camp its only doctor.

"Those clouds don't look good," Clarke squints her eyes and peers at the rumbling sky while stepping over a a cluster of roots.

Bellamy tilts his head up and examines the large dark grey masses hovering above the forest canopy, intrigued by their sporadic bursts of light and sound. He'd always been a sucker for beautiful chaos. When Bellamy feels the first cool droplets of rain on his skin and hears Clarke sigh exasperatedly, he gives her a slight smirk.

"What's the matter, princess? Can't handle a little rain?"

"The rain smudged my map. We'll have to find our way back without it." She tucks the map into her back pocket and begins walking.

The rain picks up its pace, quickly becoming a rhythmic downpour that begins to drench the two as they attempt to make their way back to the drop ship.

Suddenly, a bright flash of light and an ear-splitting crack causes them to come to a screeching halt and Clarke to whip her head around to face Bellamy, droplets flying off of her blonde waves: "We need to get to cover."

Bellamy nods. "There's a cave not far from here." He recognizes a large, fallen tree in his line of sight and starts towards it when he feels a hand grip his wrist.

"Sorry," Clarke winces as she pulls herself out of a small hole in the earth that had been covered by a blanket of leaves.

"I thought princesses were supposed to be graceful," Bellamy teases, helping her up and trying not to falter at the feel of her hand on his.

Clarke's POV:

Once the cave is in sight, the pair break into a run until they're fully safe under the stone ceiling, peeling off their drenched outer layers as quickly as possible. Clarke opens her mouth, planning to ask him if his radio still works, but becomes a little distracted by the way his soaked shirt clings to his chest and how his eyes seem to blaze a little more intensely than usual.

"You got something to say, princess?" His deep, rumbling voice sends shivers through Clarke, although she tells herself it's just because she's cold; even though her body feels unusually warm at the moment.

"Um, yes. I-I was going to ask about..." Clarke shakes her head slightly and avoids his eyes as Bellamy steps closer, the shadow of a smirk on his lips.

"Your radio. If, um, if it was working." She manages. Bellamy runs a hand through his damp curls and then lets it fall to his side, now only a foot from Clarke.

"Y-You know, so we can let Miller know we're okay."

"What's with all the stuttering?" He tilts his head to the side and smiles, his tone light and teasing, but his eyes telling a different story.

"Maybe because we just got soaked and now we're in a cave," Clarke regains some of her composure and stands up a little straighter.

"You sure that's the only reason?" His voice is lower now. Clarke shudders slightly, disarmed by his fresh, earthy scent and his closeness to her. She feels the cold cave wall against her back as she leans back slightly, trying to create a little bit of space to breathe — but it only makes it harder.

Her eyes drink in the full view of Bellamy; his dark and wild curls, his equally dark and wild eyes, his exposed collarbone, and the silhouette of his muscles beneath his button-down.

Before she can stop herself, Clarke takes a fistful of Bellamy's shirt and pulls him towards her, moving up to meet his lips.

Bellamy steadies himself by leaning an arm against the wall behind her as they collide, their bodies warm despite the cold air, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss that encapsulates the feelings that neither would have never been able to put into words.

Sure, Bellamy was her co-leader. And yes, it wasn't the best idea for this to be happening. But there's just something about him — whether it's his passion, his soft side, or even his stubbornness — that makes Clarke, for once in her life, not choose the logical option.

Bellamy returns her kiss with the same force, his hands slipping around her waist as she presses against him, her heart pounding and her mind spinning.

He lifts Clarke up and places her on a ledge in one fluid motion, her legs wrapping around him as their kiss becomes deeper, hungrier. Clarke closes her eyes and leans her head back when his lips move to her neck and collarbone, kissing every inch of her exposed skin and making her breaths quick and shallow. They pull away for a moment and Bellamy rips off his shirt as Clarke tugs her own up and over her head, desperate for the feel of Bellamy's lips on her skin again.

"Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are, princess?" His voice is husky and breathless — and god, it has the most powerful effect on her.

Clarke doesn't bother replying with words; she just hops off the ledge, pushes Bellamy to the ground, and straddles him, letting her kiss speak for itself.

Bellamy presses a hand on her back and lowers her onto the surprisingly soft rug of leaves and grass by the entrance of the cave until she's laying beneath him and he's holding himself up by his arms, looking at her in a way no one ever has.

Then, Bellamy's lips descend onto hers once more, and Clarke is once again electrified by the same energy that had coursed through her whenever he was around for the past couple weeks. He leaves trails of kisses down her chest, stomach, and waistline as she tries to bite back her moans, every nerve ending in her body wanting more of Bellamy Blake. How is it possible for someone to have this effect on her?

Bellamy's hand moves to her waist and rests on the zipper of her black jeans; then, he looks up at Clarke, his eyes asking permission.

She gives him a small nod and draws his face in for a slow, intense, consuming kiss, all while wondering if she'd ever feel this kind of bliss ever again.


	3. thought you’d be mine

Thought You'd Be Mine

— Something short and sweet.

Bellamy Blake was the love of her life. That suddenly became crystal clear the second Clarke saw his lips press against Echo's — the same lips she'd find her eyes drifting towards whenever they spoke.

But seeing Bellamy kiss Echo, along with the realization that they might have been together for years, longer than she'd ever known him, made her crack a little. She realizes that a part of her had been hoping that once she saw him again, things would be different. That he would look at her the way she needed him to. But now, that look belongs to someone else.

Clarke was ecstatic to have the old gang (mostly) back together, of course. Monty, Harper, and Echo spend forever explaining the wonders of space to Madi in a very theatrical manner as Bellamy tries to get a fire going. Clarke chuckles at their expressive gestures, knowing full well that life on the Ring must have been torturously boring, but she appreciates the effort on their part to make it interesting for Madi. Her eyes flicker over to Bellamy, who's still trying for a spark.

"It's been a while since I've done this," Bellamy smiles, assuming her gaze to be one of amusement at his struggle.

"No judgement here," Clarke lets out a small chuckle and moves over to him.

"Here, let me." She reaches for the old lighter and very concentratedly tries to ignore the tingle that goes up her spine when her hands brush his, instead focusing on her task.

Silence grows between them as the fire starts to crackle. Clarke wonders if it's because they have too much to say that they don't know where to start.

"It was hell at first. Trying to survive without you, I mean." Bellamy's voice is low and his gaze is fixated on the glowing orange tendrils before them. "But I'd never imagined how hard it was for you to survive on your own."

"A lot of the time I didn't think I was going to. Madi was the only reason I was able to live without you." Clarke looks up at Bellamy, and his deep brown eyes on hers make her breath catch ever so slightly. "A-All of you."

"Modest as ever, princess." Bellamy grins.

Oh god. He said it.

Clarke had had a lot of time to think about things during her lonesome time on the ground, that was for sure. She couldn't even count the number of times she'd lain by herself in the dirt or sand and wondered if she'd ever hear Bellamy Blake call her princess again.

"You okay?"

Clarke looks up from the stick she was twiddling with and meets his eyes.

"Now that you're here, I am."


End file.
